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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333130">I Knew You Were Waiting for Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalgirl75/pseuds/cardinalgirl75'>cardinalgirl75</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Across Two Lifetimes [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, and I hope it answers a couple of questions that came up during the original story, because there is some angst, but don't forget that the happy ending is here!!, so this is the first of two epilogues, warning: kleenexes may be needed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:08:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalgirl75/pseuds/cardinalgirl75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There were so many things she wanted to say that she didn’t know where to begin.  She wondered if he felt the same way, then figured that he had to, or else why wouldn’t he have said something?  If there was one thing she knew about Jaime, it was that he loved to talk.  Or he used to love to talk.  Maybe that had changed?  What did she really know about him, and what did he know about her?</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Everything and nothing.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Across Two Lifetimes [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Knew You Were Waiting for Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally, this was just supposed to be a one-shot from Brienne's POV.  Then Jaime got pushy and insisted on telling his side of the story.  And then it was supposed to end with him.  But then I got to asking a couple of questions that I didn't feel got resolved in the original story, so here's an epilogue.  Many thanks to everyone who's commented and left kudos on the other stories--comments and kudos are life!!</p><p>Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.  :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brienne couldn’t stop staring at him.  He was here—<i>Jaime</i> was here, and she couldn’t stop staring.  Which normally would embarrass her to no end except that he was staring at her, too, with a look that she’d seen on so many other faces over the years.  It was the look Gilly Craster had had on her face after Sam Tarly walked up to her all those years ago at school to show her his soulmark.  It was the look Sandor had gotten when Sansa shrieked, “You’re my soulmate!” and whipped off her shirt at that bar, revealing the soulmark on her left shoulder blade.  (Sandor had immediately punched two guys who had catcalled Sansa for doing it.) It was the look Renly and Loras exchanged whenever one of them walked into the room.</p><p>Brienne had always envied soulmates that look.  It wasn’t smug or done deliberately.  It just was, and it was something she’d stopped believing she’d ever have in this lifetime, although she realized now that she’d seen that look several times in her dreams of Jaime after they were reunited.  Jaime had looked at her in that way, and she’d never realized it for what it was back then.</p><p>She knew what it was now, and Jaime was <i>here,</i> and he was looking at her with <i>that look.</i></p><p>“Excuse me, sir, but we need to keep the line going.  Ms. Tarth?  You need to sign the book.”</p><p>Brienne flinched at the nasally sound of the store manager’s voice and opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.  Jaime gave her a small, understanding smile and reached out to take the book from her, the fingers of his left hand brushing against hers and sending prickles of sensation throughout her entire body.  She took a deep breath—had she breathed at all since she’d looked up and seen him there?—but before she could say something, he was gone and a plump, eager redhead was standing before her, thrusting out her book and babbling something that Brienne didn’t hear.</p><p>
  <i>Where is he going?  Is he leaving?  He can’t leave.  He can’t leave me here alone—Jaime, come back!</i>
</p><p>“Ms. Tarth?” Brienne flinched again, although Podrick Payne, the representative from the publisher who had been sent along with her on this tour, had spoken much softer and had a nicer voice.</p><p>Brienne took another breath and gathered herself together.  She could get through this, just as she’d gotten through everything else—the accident that killed Gally and her mother, the boys who had humiliated her all those years ago, the laughter of those who couldn’t believe she had a soulmark, the pity on the faces of everyone who had attended that absurd twenty-fifth nameday party Margaery had insisted on throwing.  Those had been bad things.  This was something good. </p><p>
  <i>What if he wasn’t real?  What if he was just my imagination?  No.  No, no.  He had the soulmark.  He wrote ‘wench’ in his inscription when no one knows that that was what Jaime called me.  He called me by my real name!</i>
</p><p>Brienne’s eyes searched the crowd to see if she could spot him again, but a gently cleared throat and a not-so-gently hissed, “Get on with it!” finally brought her back to reality.</p><p>
  <i>Trust in him.  He’s here.  You just have to get through a little more and then…</i>
</p><p>Brienne smiled at the woman in front of her, reached for her book, and continued with the signing.  She tried not to be obvious that she was keeping an eye on the clock and the size of the line with every person that passed through, wishing time would go faster than it did because what if they’d kicked Jaime out of the store, what if he changed his mind upon seeing her and took off, what if he was kidnapped before this ended—</p><p>Jaime, as it turned out, decided to sit in one of the large club chairs the bookstore provided for patrons to wait out the rest of her time at the signing.  When she was finally done, he was immersed in <i>The Blue Captive.</i>  She stood a few feet away, just staring at him, still unable to believe that he was really here at last. </p><p>And gods, he was as beautiful as he’d been in her dreams.  More so, really, because in a lot of her dreams he was emaciated and sick.  This Jaime looked much as he had in the dreams she’d had of the Long Night—golden curls going very slightly gray at the temples, tiny laugh lines forming at the corners of eyes that she remembered were so, so green, tall, muscular body curled in the chair in a way that reminded her of a big cat.</p><p>
  <i>Why would someone like you ever want to be with someone like me, if not for the whims of the gods?  Why did the gods choose us for each other twice?</i>
</p><p>“Jaime,” she said, almost too quietly to be heard, but he looked up anyway.  He scrambled to his feet, setting the book in the chair, and looked at her again as though she were life itself to him.</p><p>And there they stood, much as they had when he’d been before her in line.  There were so many things she wanted to say that she didn’t know where to begin.  She wondered if he felt the same way, then figured that he had to, or else why wouldn’t he have said something?  If there was one thing she knew about Jaime, it was that he loved to talk.  Or he used to love to talk.  Maybe that had changed?  What did she really know about him, and what did he know about her?</p><p>
  <i>Everything and nothing.</i>
</p><p>“This is going to sound like such a cliché, but I can’t believe you’re finally here,” he said.  “You’re here, and I have no idea what to say!”</p><p>“I was about to say the same thing,” she admitted.</p><p>“I’ve spent the past two years trying to find you.”  He glanced at the book on the chair and chuckled.  “I read through so many history books trying to find any trace of you back then because I thought it might help me figure out who you were now.  And the only book I needed to read was yours.”</p><p>“To be fair, you probably wouldn’t have known from the first book.  He’s—you’re—not in it.” </p><p>Jaime shook his head affectionately.  “I would have known.  She—you—” He laughed again, and this time she joined him.  “It’s strange to talk about this like they’re separate people from us.  But I would’ve known.  You talked about Tarth sometimes.” His humor fled somewhat as he looked at his hand.  “After they took my hand, you would tell me stories to help me deal with the pain.  I remember the septa from the seven hells and all the trouble she gave you.”</p><p>“Yeah.  She turned up again as a nanny.  She wasn’t any nicer the second time around.”  Brienne took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Did that happen a lot to you?  People kept turning up that you knew before?”</p><p>“Not as much as might be expected,” he said.  “But then, my life this time has been complicated.”  He glanced around the bookstore.  “Are you officially done for today?  I know there’s another bookstore around here.”</p><p>“I’m done,” she confirmed.  “The other bookstore sneered at my books as ‘historical romance nonsense,’ and as there’s nothing wrong with historical romances or nonsense, I told my publisher I wasn’t interested in going there.”</p><p>“Jerks.”  Jaime smiled at her, and her heart gave a little flip.  “I wish the weather was nicer, because there’s a beautiful park where we could go for a picnic.”</p><p>“Do you live here?” she asked.  “I was here last year when my second book came out.”</p><p>“I don’t.”  He ran his left hand through his hair.  “My legal address is in King’s Landing, but I doubt I’ve spent more than a month altogether at my home in the past two years.  Like I said, I’ve been doing a lot of research, trying to find you in the past.  I’ve been all over Westeros, tracking down old texts and stuff.  But I grew up here, and my brother and his wife moved here last year.”  His left hand tapped nervously on his thigh.  “There’s a hotel a few blocks from here with a domed rooftop dining area.  They have good food.”</p><p>“I think I remember seeing it,” she said.  “We can—”</p><p>“Brienne?  We need to go if we’re going to get to the airport in time.”</p><p>Even though the words had spoken very softly, Brienne jumped as though Podrick had yelled in her ear.  “What?”</p><p>“Our flight to Oldtown?  It leaves at three-thirty, and we still have to go back to your hotel to get your bags.”  Podrick glanced from her to Jaime.  “I’m sorry.  I interrupted you and your friend, but we should probably go.  We don’t want to risk getting caught in traffic.”</p><p>“Right,” she murmured.  “I forgot.  Thank you, Podrick.  Um…could you…I know this isn’t your job, but if I gave you my key, could you get my things and then come back for me here?”  She looked at Jaime.  “Jaime is a friend of mine that I haven’t seen for a long time, and I want to try and catch up with him before I go.”</p><p>“Of course!” Podrick looked so eager to be of help that Brienne wondered if she should’ve let him do more before.  Instead, she watched as he took the room key she handed him and bounded out of the bookstore.</p><p>It made her feel guilty for what she was about to do.  “He might have heard our plans for the restaurant.  Do you have an alternative idea?”</p><p>Jaime looked taken aback, but only for a second.  He smiled devilishly at her as his eyes sparkled with mischief.  “I just might.  But don’t get the wrong idea.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*</p>
</div>Fifteen minutes later, Jaime opened the door to one of the penthouse suite of Lannisport’s finest hotel and ushered Brienne inside.  She didn’t hesitate before walking inside, taking in the gleaming hardwood floors, sedate wallpaper, hideously expensive but no doubt super-comfortable furniture, and the discreet hallway that would lead to the bedrooms.<p>Best not to think about those just at the moment.  Jaime had told her not to get the wrong idea, but that didn’t mean the wrong idea couldn’t become the right idea at any moment.</p><p><i>If Margaery could hear </i>that<i> thought, she’d never call me Septa Perpetua again.</i></p><p>Jaime closed the door behind her as Brienne sat on one end of the plush sofa.  He set the keycard on the breakfast bar and walked to where she was.  He sat at the other end of the sofa and turned to face her.</p><p>“How much trouble are you going to get into for this?” he asked.</p><p>Brienne shrugged.  “Renly will yell later, but then I’ll explain who you are.  He’ll get all mushy and sentimental, and then he’ll try to figure out how to milk this for all it’s worth.”</p><p>“You mean he doesn’t know you’re writing about our past together?”</p><p>“No.  The only person who knows about you is my friend Sansa.  It was hard enough for people to believe that I had a soulmate.  You can imagine what it would’ve been like if they knew the rest.”  She steeled herself for the look of sympathy.</p><p>Instead, Jaime nodded in understanding.  There was an awkward silence, and then…</p><p>“When did you have your first memory of the past?”</p><p>“So what’s the oldest you’ve been in your dreams?”</p><p>They spoke at the same time, and immediately started laughing.  Jaime suggested that she ask her question first, then he would ask one, and she agreed.</p><p>Once the worst of the awkwardness was past, conversation flowed easily.  She was stunned to learn that Jaime had been born with his soulmark, and angered when she learned how his family had tried to convince him to remove it.  Jaime told her about Tyrion’s accident and his subsequent agreement with his father, the loneliness he’d felt after his twenty-fifth nameday had passed without her, and then the terror of his accident on what he’d learned was her twenty-fifth nameday.</p><p>“We were going to meet that night,” he said quietly.  “Tyrion had been invited to the party and he was bringing me.  I was going to be there.  You believe me, don’t you?”</p><p>She nodded.  “I remember Margaery telling me she’d invited him.  She hoped he’d bring you along, although she intended for you to end up in her bed, not mine.”  As his eyes darkened with heat, she felt a flush go through her at what she’d said.  “Um…so, how did you spend your twenty-fifth nameday?”</p><p>“Drunk, mostly.  Tyrion and his friend Bronn dragged me through half the bars in Flea Bottom.  If I hadn’t tried to wager the family’s prized Valyrian steel sword in a game of pool against some guy named the Hound, we probably would’ve gotten to them all.”</p><p>Brienne looked at him with surprise.  “The Hound?”</p><p>“Yeah.  He was some hulking brute of a pool hustler at some bar.  Only ever heard him called that, and we didn’t stick around to find out why.”</p><p>“When is your nameday?” she asked, a thought taking root in her mind.</p><p>“July ninth.”</p><p>Brienne did some quick math and groaned as the realization hit her.  “We could’ve met then,” she said.  “You share a nameday with Sansa.  We were doing a bar crawl that night, too.  And the Hound?  Turned out to be her soulmate.”</p><p>Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose.  “What were the gods thinking by doing that to us?  Why did Bronn drag me out of there before you could arrive?  Why did some dumb son of a bitch named Zollo decide to run a red light and wind up hitting my car?”</p><p>Brienne scooted slightly closer to him.  “I don’t think we’ll ever get the answers.  Maybe the gods felt we had unfinished business before it was time for us to meet.  If we meet when you’re twenty-five, maybe I wouldn’t be a writer.  If we meet when I’m twenty-five, maybe your brother wouldn’t be married to his soulmate because he wouldn’t have met her.”</p><p>“Or maybe both of those things happen anyway, but we’re not miserable for ten years without each other,” Jaime said, and perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed like he scooted a bit closer to her.  “Tyrion once suggested to me that perhaps the reason I got my soulmark at birth was to teach me patience.  If so, the gods can consider the lesson learned, wench.”  He grimaced.  “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that—”</p><p>“No, it’s okay.  I’ve been called a lot worse than wench both then and now.  Besides,” she smiled warmly, “from you, that became a term of endearment rather than an insult.  I much preferred it to when you were calling me ‘Lady Brienne’ in this cold tone of voice that made me clench my teeth every time you said it.”</p><p>Jaime cocked his head.  “When did I do that?”</p><p>This led to a lengthy discussion of their past lives.  Brienne was surprised that while many of their memories matched up, as they should, the extent of their knowledge of those periods of time varied.  Jaime had more memories of their first trip in the Riverlands before their capture by the Bloody Mummers than Brienne did, and she had more memories of what happened afterward.  (“Not surprising, since I spent most of that time fevered and in agony,” Jaime said.)</p><p>Brienne had mere traces of memories concerning most of their time in King’s Landing, but she had the clearest memory of their final parting when he’d given her Oathkeeper and sent her to find Sansa Stark.  Jaime had only his thoughts on the meeting from when he’d tried to sleep that night.  (“You’d think I’d have dreamed about that since that was apparently the final step to me getting a soulmark.”)</p><p>When it came to their reunion in the Riverlands several months later, Brienne’s memories were hazier than Jaime’s—but as Jaime pointed out, that was when she had been severely injured, so it was to be expected.  (“But even though I recovered, my memories are still spotty,” she said.  “Every memory I have of that time is of you calling me ‘Lady Brienne’ because you were angry about my betrayal.  I can’t blame you for being angry.”</p><p>“I can blame me.  You were willing to die for me.  You saved a boy.  Now, if it had just been that stupid Kyle Cunt—”</p><p>“Jaime, you know his name was Hyle.”  She scooted forward enough to be able to whap at the arm he had draped across the back of the couch.</p><p>“Do I?”  He definitely scooted forward again.)</p><p>Then came their time at Winterfell, which began when Brienne asked, “What is your last memory?”</p><p>Jaime’s brow furrowed.  “Do you know, I’m not sure.  I’ve dreamed of us at Winterfell preparing for the Others, but as to an exact memory…most of them are similar.  We spar, we talk, we get interrupted before I can tell you about my soulmark.”</p><p>“So you meant to tell me,” Brienne said.  “Why didn’t you just pull me into your bedchamber or mine and do it?”</p><p>Jaime sighed heavily, as though he’d known she would ask.  “Did I ever tell you, or did you find out after I died?”</p><p>A lump rose in her throat and she remembered the grief and terror she’d felt when she’d awakened that morning—gods, had it only been this morning when she’d had this dream?  It felt like years ago.  But something he said struck her.  “You don’t know how you died?” she asked.</p><p>“The only thing I know about my death is what I read in the books.”</p><p>“You’re not in the books.  Neither am I, which always confused me because we were both there and we both fought.  Those books are as meticulous as anything in that era could be, but there’s no mention of either of us.”  A fact which also frustrated her, because before last night’s dream she had never been able to figure out what they might have done to be excluded from the history.</p><p>“Well…” Jaime drawled, his fingertips close enough to brush against her outstretched hand and send sparks up her arm.  “Jaime Lannister isn’t written in the history of the Long Night, no, but Goldenhand the Just is.”</p><p>Brienne’s slightly fuzzy brain snapped back into focus. “Goldenhand?  Wait, you’re telling me—”  He nodded, and she searched her mind for anything she’d read about Goldenhand the Just over the years.  She groaned as things fell into place and he laughed.  “Gods, why did I never think of that?  How many times did I see you in my dreams with that silly hand and not put it together?”</p><p>“Hey!  That hand was not silly.  It had a highly useful purpose in holding my wineglass and busting the noses of assholes who insulted you.”</p><p>“Busting—what?  Whose nose?”</p><p>“I met a former fiancé of yours when I went back to Harrenhal.  Ronnet Connington?  Got tired of hearing him mock you, so I smacked him in the face with the hand.”</p><p>Brienne blinked back tears.  She remembered what a nasty shock that memory had been to her when she was nineteen.  She had chosen not to write it in her journal, although of course it stuck with her and she’d included it as part of her first book.  She’d also taken artistic license by having Blue punch him in the jaw.  “Thank you,” she whispered.</p><p>“I’d say you’re welcome, but it was entirely my pleasure.”  He grew serious again.  “I take it I didn’t tell you.”</p><p>“Not until you were dying.”  Tears trickled down her cheeks.  “That’s my last memory of either of us.  I don’t know what happened to me because like I said, I’m not in the history of the battle.”</p><p>“But you didn’t die,” Jaime said fiercely.  “The books said I died protecting someone, and I knew it had to be you.  You lived, right?” </p><p>Brienne nodded, and he looked relieved.</p><p>“As to why I didn’t say anything, in every dream I have of that time, there’s a strong yearning to tell you.  We reach a point where I think maybe you’re ready to hear it and then something comes up.  My only guess for why I didn’t drag you to some private place is that I didn’t feel entirely worthy of you.”</p><p>“But you had done so many good things—you saved King’s Landing, you…you kept your word to Lady Catelyn when you didn’t have to—”</p><p>“I did dishonorable things, too.  Things the world could not forgive.”  Jaime pulled his fingers away from her hand.  “Things I couldn’t forgive myself.  I couldn’t forgive myself for the fact that I couldn’t regret loving Cersei.  By the time we were reunited, I didn’t love her anymore.  I hadn’t loved her for a long time.  There were times I wondered if I’d ever truly loved her at all, but I knew I had, even if she hadn’t felt the same.  I couldn’t regret her, because then I would be regretting the children.”  He looked down at his right hand, the prosthesis laying in his lap, “Even though they were born of incest, the younger two were good.  They were good children.  I didn’t know Myrcella well, and I didn’t know Tommen until the end, but they were sweet and loving despite where they’d come from.  Despite their mother.  Despite me.”</p><p>“I would never have asked you to regret your children,” Brienne said.  “You went back to King’s Landing to try and save Tommen.  You told me that you wanted to tell him the truth, but you knew by then it would be selfish, so you kept quiet.  He never knew you were his father.”  She took his hand in hers.  “You were worthy, Jaime.  You were honorable, even before you came north to fight for the living.  And I loved you.”</p><p>“You forgive a lot of those you love,” Jaime said, his voice husky.</p><p>“I suppose I do.”  Brienne smiled and scooted closer to him until their knees touched.  “Once I feel they’ve earned the right, I forgive easily.  But it takes a lot for me to let people in.  It always has.”</p><p>“It’s easy to forgive the mistakes I’ve made in the past because you’ve had your entire life to learn about them, not to mention that you knew I was your soulmate.”  Jaime’s head stayed lowered as though he couldn’t look at her for some reason.  “What about the mistakes I’ve made in this lifetime?”</p><p>Brienne reached for his chin with her other hand and raised his head to look at her.  “Have you thrown a child out of a tower window in this lifetime?  Because that’s the hardest thing it took me to overcome last time, and even then I almost understood why.”</p><p>“No, but I…there was a night when I…when Cersei and I were eighteen…”</p><p>Brienne knew she couldn’t control her expression, and she knew she looked shocked because the brief flicker of hope she’d seen in Jaime’s eyes died.  He nodded slowly and pulled his face away from her, pulled his hand away.</p><p>Like lightning, her brain went through the information.  One night.  With his sister.  And from the look on his face, he’d regretted it ever since.  And he’d said before that his family tried to persuade him to get rid of his soulmark when he was eighteen because his mother had put a clause in her will preventing them from doing it themselves.  Knowing what little she did about Cersei from before, and knowing how little people around them seemed to change from one lifetime to the next, she could guess what Cersei’s motives were, though she figured there was more to it than just wanting the soulmark gone.</p><p>“You don’t need my forgiveness for that,” she said emphatically.  “You didn’t wrong me because I wasn’t there then.  In fact, I’m glad you found the strength to get away before they could convince you to do it.  I would’ve believed you were my soulmate without it because I dreamed of you, but if you’d gotten rid of our soulmark…that might have been the one thing I couldn’t forgive.”</p><p>“It was my dreams of you that gave me the strength not to give in,” Jaime whispered, and finally looked up at her again.  “I knew you were waiting for me.”</p><p>Brienne felt as though something took over her body just then.  Something that had waited two lifetimes to be this close to Jaime, something that had longed her entire life to be held and kissed and cherished.</p><p>Something that was done waiting.</p><p>Brienne closed the remaining distance between them, took his face in her hands, and kissed him.  It was a clumsy, awkward kiss, as her only other experience had been about two years ago when she’d finally caved and gone on a date with Hyle Hunt.  But for all the clumsiness, there was desire, and the touch of Jaime’s lips on hers sent fire racing throughout her entire body.</p><p>Jaime was tentative for all of a second before he took over, and she knew that the same something within her that brought her to this moment was within him as well.</p><p>And that was her last coherent thought for a while.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*</p>
</div>They made it to the bedroom at some point, though Brienne couldn’t quite remember how they’d gotten there.  There had been a bit of a tussle getting clothes off and she remembered giggling when Jaime had cursed because he’d forgotten to remove his shoes before trying to remove his trousers.  Then he’d gotten them off and slid his body up hers and there’d been no more giggling after that.<p>Had there been a moment when she’d wondered if they were going too fast, or if they should wait until there was a bit of distance between his last revelation and their first time together?  Of course, there had.  It was only natural.  But in a way, Brienne felt that they needed something like this to make him believe that she didn’t care what had happened, and to make her believe that he truly desired her.</p><p>And now here she was, her arms wrapped around him as they lay in bed together.</p><p>“If you had told me when I woke up this morning that this is where I would be at the end of my day, I would never have believed it,” she murmured.  She raised herself up on an elbow so she could look at him.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Brienne placed her free hand on his chest, running her fingers along the ridges of his pectoral muscles, feeling the smoothness of skin under the light dusting of hair.  She stopped when she felt his heart beating.  “I dreamed of your death last night,” she said, and felt him stiffen slightly.  “I was convinced that it meant you’d died in this lifetime, too.”</p><p>Jaime placed his left hand over the hand she had on his chest.  “Nope.  Not dead.  Alive and well and here with you.”  He shifted until they sat on their sides facing each other.  He leaned in until his forehead touched hers.  “I love you, Brienne.  I never told you that, and I should have.  I never wanted you to have a doubt of how I felt.”</p><p>She felt tears forming in her eyes.  “I didn’t need the words.  I knew how you felt,” she said.  “Before you died, you told me that your soul would find mine, and it has.  Maybe it took longer than we thought, but we’re here.  Alive and well.”  She tilted her head and kissed him—a much better kiss than her first one.  “And I love you, too.”</p><p>Several kisses later, Jaime turned onto his back again, bringing her with him to drape herself over his chest.  “Do you suppose we’ll continue to dream of our pasts?” he asked.  “Because if we do, we should make a rule that neither of us is allowed to get mad about something we remembered from before.”</p><p>Brienne snorted.  “You only want that rule because you were a lot meaner to me than I was to you.”</p><p>“What?  I was the soul of charm when we first met.”</p><p>“Like hells you were!  Read my book.  You commented on my height, my face, my gender, my virginity, and you spent a lot of time talking about my breasts.  Do you deny you did that?”</p><p>“Not at all,” Jaime said with a charming smile.  “Especially the bit about your breasts.  I’ve always liked them.”</p><p>“Yes, I figured that out about five years ago when I first reread my journals.  But you admit that you were a jerk.”</p><p>“Did you not read your book?  You started it.  I tried to be nice at first, and you called me Kingslayer.  After that, all bets were off.”</p><p>Brienne opened her mouth to protest and then she realized that he was right.  She burst into laughter.  “Fair point,” she admitted.  “But to answer your question, I don’t think either of us has to worry about suddenly remembering something from our pasts that will make us angry with each other.  I’ve done research on soulmates who have memories of their past lives.  The soulmates typically stop remembering things once they’ve been united in their current lifetime.”</p><p>“Ah.  Not that I think there’s anything you don’t know about me, but I thought I’d put that clause in there.”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”  She yawned as exhaustion crept in.  “This does leave me in a bit of a quandary.” </p><p>“Why is that?”</p><p>“Well, I don’t know how I’m going to end my story.  I’ve never dreamed of anything that happened later after the Long Night.  History doesn’t record what happened to me.  So what do I do when I get to the Long Night?  Have Kingslayer and Blue go out together, Valyrian steel swords alight?  Have Kingslayer survive, marry Blue, and live happily ever after?”</p><p>“If I get a vote, I pick door number two,” Jaime said.  “Just because everything in your story has been the truth to that point doesn’t mean you have to give fans a gloomy ending.  Or maybe you can go all-out and give your readers the entire truth—and Blue and Kingslayer will die together and be reunited in another lifetime.”</p><p>“Hmm.”  Brienne snuggled close to him and closed her eyes.  “Maybe.  But I do wish I knew the rest of the story…”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*</p>
</div><i>Prior to the Long Night, Brienne had received a raven from Maester Kyrie informing her that Tarth had fallen, and her father with it, when the Golden Company had invaded.  They had used Tarth as a launching point for their assault on King’s Landing.  Brienne had wept when the news had reached her but had chosen to remain where she was, preparing for the battle with the Others.  Tarth was gone but she could still keep her oath to Lady Catelyn as best she could by protecting her daughters and defending their home against an enemy that lady could never have imagined while she was alive.</i><p>
  <i>When Jaime was still alive, there had been moments when Brienne had dreamed about returning to Tarth with him by her side to help her rebuild.  She had told herself she was a foolish girl and there was no chance he could ever return her feelings, but she had been unable to stop the dreams.  Now she knew she had not been foolish, that he had loved her.  That he had been her soulmate.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>But he was gone.  He had died a mere hour after revealing his mark to her.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>In the end, Brienne had been unable to see Jaime become one of the thousands who had burned in the large funeral pyres set alight outside of Winterfell’s walls, with the words of King Aemon honoring their sacrifice ringing in her ears.  She had taken Jaime’s body to a small clearing just within the Winterfell godswood.  A place where no one would mock him as the Kingslayer or doubt that he did not deserve to be placed among the rest who had fallen because of his past.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A place where she could be alone with him one last time.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Brienne formed the pyre herself, tears falling from her eyes to freeze on her face with every piece of wood she added to cover him.  When she felt she had enough, she reached for the flint in the bag she’d brought with her.  She held it tight in her right hand as she spoke softly, her words ripped away by the wind that rose to lift her prayers for him to the skies, to the gods themselves.  She prayed that he would be received by the Warrior himself, or perhaps the Father would grant him mercy and shelter him in death.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Brienne looked at him, so pale and still beneath the wood.  No.  She couldn’t let him go without doing one last thing.  She dropped the flint to the ground beside her.  She had left enough space for her to reach in and take his left hand in hers.  And then she whispered the words she should have said before he died, the words she would have said willingly had he revealed the truth to her before the dead were upon them.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Let it be known that Ser Jaime of House Lannister and Lady Brienne of House Tarth are one heart, one flesh, one…” Her voice broke, clogged with tears.  “…one soul.  Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”  More tears fell.  “I’ll wait for you, Jaime.  However long it takes.  I’ll wait until we can be together again.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Brienne heard a small sniffle and whipped her head around to see Lord Tyrion standing a short distance away.  She cursed inwardly, having hoped she would be through this before he arrived.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Lord Tyrion had arrived at her room shortly before Jaime’s death, his face pale and pained as he’d stared at his brother.  Brienne knew there had been much enmity between them upon Jaime’s arrival at Winterfell, and there had not been much time for them to attempt to mend the breach before the battle began in earnest.  But from the looks the two exchanged as Tyrion came into her room, she knew that they would have been able to forgive each other and to rebuild their relationship, given time.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She had appealed to Tyrion for approval to have this small, private ceremony, for she had not wanted to presume she had any right to say what happened to Jaime.  She had been his secret soulmate, but not his acknowledged wife.  To her surprise, Tyrion had acquiesced without any persuasion at all, asking only that she let him know when and where she would do this.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>And now he was here, but he was not alone.  Lady Sansa was beside him, and Lord Bran in his chair beside her.  Lady Arya and King Aemon walked up as she stared at the newcomers.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I—I’m sorry, Lord Tyrion.  You must think me presumptuous to…to…” Brienne could not think of how to explain what he surely must have heard.  He likely thought her some foolish girl who wanted to tell people she had wed the Lion of Lannister and believed no one would ask when the vows had occurred.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Not at all.”  Tyrion stepped forward.  “Lady Brienne, although my brother and I did not speak until almost until the end, I knew his movements.  I knew his whereabouts.  And always, he was where you were.  I do not know when he fell in love with you, but it was clear to everyone at Winterfell that he loved you very much, even before he sacrificed his life to save you in battle.”  Tyrion’s eyes flickered to the unlit pyre.  “My brother may have changed over the years, but one thing was always true about him.  He was constant to the woman he loved.  Had he survived, he would have married you.  If there is…a reason why you should need to claim that the vows took place before his death, there are none here who will say otherwise.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Fortunately, Brienne’s cheeks were reddened from cold and therefore her blush was concealed.  “No, that is not why.  He did not…we did not…”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tyrion sighed.  “I feared not.  It would have been a comfort had there been something of Jaime left.  Cold comfort, but something nonetheless.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“He was my soulmate,” she choked out.  “I loved him, and I never knew that he was…until it was too late and he was gone!”  She broke down into huge, gasping sobs.  And then the others were there, comforting arms around her, other tears falling into her hair and her shoulders.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She didn’t know how long they stood there.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Lady Brienne,” she heard the unmistakable voice of the king say near her ear, “regardless of you not needing the protection of his name, if you wish to be known as Lady Lannister, you shall be from this day until the end of your days.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Brienne considered this.  She supposed she had a duty to Tarth despite the destruction, but she knew with her entire being that she would never marry and have a child.  She could not imagine being with anyone who was not Jaime.  She had cousins who could inherit the Evenstar title, should there still be such a thing anymore in this new world that was forming in the wake of the ascension of a man many considered a bastard.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I would not dare to presume to be something I was not,” she murmured.  “And I would never want Lord Tyrion to think I would say yes to try and supplant him as Lord of Casterly Rock.  I…I plan to stay here.”  She looked at Lady Sansa.  “I swore an oath to your lady mother as well as to Jaime to see that you and your sister remain safe.  With Lord Bran leaving to return beyond the Wall and King Aemon going to King’s Landing, there will be no one here to protect you.”  She looked at Lady Arya.  “Begging your pardon, my lady.  I know you can protect your sister quite well, but I have heard you talk of returning to Braavos.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“She’s more likely to end up at Storm’s End,” Sansa muttered.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Arya glared at her sister, the king glared at them both in admonishment, and in spite of everything, Brienne let out a small laugh.  When she looked at Tyrion, she saw amusement in his eyes also.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Do you fear that if you are known as Lady Lannister that you will be scorned because of who he was?” King Aemon asked.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I would not care what anyone thought, if I had married Jaime.  They could spit at me every day for the rest of my life and it would have been worth it.  I knew the truth of him.  I knew what he did to save King’s Landing, and how he tried to restore peace to the Riverlands, and how time after time he saved men in our battle with the Others when most would not have taken the risk!  I would be proud to be called Lady Lannister.”  She took a deep breath.  “I would be honored.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Then that is what you shall be,” Tyrion said.  “Henceforth, you are Lady Brienne of House Lannister.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Wife of Ser Goldenhand the Just,” King Aemon added.  “My Uncle Edmure would not agree, but most of those from the Riverlands who survived all spoke of how Jaime treated them.  The men of his army spoke of him reverently.  Because of Jaime, there are men and women the entire length of Westeros—and beyond—who are alive today.  History may remember the Kingslayer, but we must do everything in our power so that history remembers Goldenhand as well.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Goldenhand the Just,” Brienne murmured.  “Yes.  He would have liked that.”  She looked at Jaime and picked up the flint.  She offered up one final apology to Jaime that this was his end, a final prayer to the gods for his soul, and struck the flint.</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~*~*~*~*</p>
</div>Brienne opened her eyes slowly.  Her dream was so vivid, so real, but surely that hadn’t been what had happened.  She disentangled herself from Jaime, got out of bed, and went to the living room, where she’d left her phone.  She ignored the…good gods, how many text messages was that?...never mind, she’d look at those later.  For now, she called up a browser and typed in four words.<p>
  <i>Lady Lannister Long Night</i>
</p><p>Somehow, she wasn’t surprised when by the number of hits she got.  Brienne hadn’t entirely erased herself from the narrative of the Long Night—she was there if one knew what to look for.  But no wonder neither she nor Jaime had been able to find anything more about each other.  He would’ve presumed that “Lady Lannister” was Tyrion’s wife, and she hadn’t put the pieces together about who Goldenhand had to be.</p><p>She touched one of the links and read through the history of Lady Lannister.  She’d remained behind at Winterfell and helped rebuild the damage done by years of war.  Lady Sansa named her the Master of Arms, and she spent much of her later years teaching young boys—and girls—the art of swordplay.  The record said that she’d died unexpectedly in her sleep when she was in her fifties.</p><p>A tear trickled down her cheek.  It was bare bones, and she doubted she’d find much more than that.  She knew, even without reading anything more, that the rest of her life had been busy but lonely, much as her life had been until today.  She wept a few more tears for the Brienne who had had to live without Jaime.</p><p>Then she turned off her phone and returned to bed, so she could get on with the business of living the life of the Brienne who finally had him.</p>
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